


Cloud and Zack Have an Argument

by virtuous_contract



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cloud Strife Needs a Hug, Depression, Developing Friendships, Family Feels, Feels, Friendship, Love, M/M, Male Friendship, Men Crying, Mentions of rape (but it never happened), Pining, Post-Advent Children (Compilation of FFVII), Queer Families, Queer Themes, Queerplatonic Relationships, Relationship(s), Zack Fair & Cloud Strife Friendship, Zack Fair Lives, argument, love negotiations, relationship negotiatons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26273590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtuous_contract/pseuds/virtuous_contract
Summary: Cloud always thought that he and Zack had been close. Closer than friends were supposed to be. And he'd always thought it had been mutual. One day he stumbled across a piece of information that made him re-evaluate all that he thought he knew.This is set in a post Advent Day setting, and somehow Zack lived. Nibelheim happened, but whatever happened in the labs wasn't overly traumatising.TW: Contains angst and a pretty heavily depressed Cloud. I wouldn't categorise this as an uplifting piece. An informative piece on queer relationships at best.
Relationships: Zack Fair/Cloud Strife
Comments: 14
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been betaed.

Cloud had called Zack over for a serious talk. He was furious that he had to find out about it this way! It was only by chance Cloud had come across the mission report that had stated it. He wasn’t even normally on that division of paperwork. Had Zack intended to hide it from him forever?

If Zack was the one who’d killed Angeal all those years ago, why the hell hadn’t he said so? They were best friends after all. Hell, they were family. And the fact that Zack was the one who’d been sent out to ‘dispose’ of Angeal was not in the appropriate magnitude to hide from family.

Cloud thought they were close. Really close! Zack was by far the one person he saw most often in his spare time. Far more time was allotted to Zack than his half-hearted dating projects, and that priority seemed to be reciprocated. They had so many things to do together. They exercised, even though they weren’t on equal level. They played games, read books, talked about politics, the world, their work, and they drank.

Over time their friendship circles started to overlap. He’d often thought that they would have been an old married couple if things would have been a bit different, but of course this was a stupid thought, and he never voiced it or dwelled on it. It had still been a comforting thought at the back of his mind, to think of their relationship like that. It gave him a reference point to what their relationship was. It was undeniably closer than most male to male friendships, and that made the ground underneath them shaky at times.

It had been a surprise to find that they got along so well. At first, he thought that Zack being a First Class SOLDIER would somehow impede their possibility of being close. That power difference was something that he had thought they were handling continuously, with mutual efforts. They’d talked about relationships so many times, and the importance of honesty and vulnerability. They talked about it _specifically_ in relation to their relationship too. But now all those conversations had suddenly turned meaningless. How could Zack just sit there, keeping this from him all those times? He felt so stupid, and it weighed on him until his body felt like lead and he had to crouch down on the floor.

A thousand questions were springing in Cloud’s mind while he waited for Zack to arrive, and he paced nervously in his little quarter between fits of listlessness. Outside the window, skies were grey and ominous. Perfect for the horrendous talk he knew they were going to have. His innards were nervously tumbling around, and he felt absolutely sick.

They’d talked about Angeal’s death so many times. How many times had he not comforted Zack about it?! Every time! Every time Zack’d had the chance to tell the truth. Truly, countless times.

Then came the knock on the door. The same knock as always. It was an obnoxious one that drove Cloud up the wall at times. Not this time. Now it just made his stomach drop. Cloud went to open it.

“Hiya Spike!” Zack haphazardly kicked his shoes off. In the usual order he just left them wherever they ended up falling. He stepped into the little living room area and sat down on the two-seat sofa right under the window of the studio flat. It was everybody’s favourite spot, including his own. There had been many times when they’d almost had a latent race as to who hogged it first. Of course, it could fit two people, but then you’d have to sit close. Closer than he and Zack usually did. 

It was more common for one person to occupy the sofa by throwing themselves on it horizontally, legs over the comfortably padded armrests. Cloud loved to lie in it when the sun was shining in from the window. It seemed like such a kind, safe spot. He’d gotten it from a fellow infantry man who’d died later. He always felt like he sat with a friend, even though he was mostly in it alone.

“Do you want tea?” Cloud asked, trying to sound casual.

“Sure!”

Cloud’s hands were unsteady as he fussed around in the little kitchen area, putting water on the tiny stove and producing cups from the cupboards. He saw his own hands shaking from the nervousness coursing through his veins.

“What’s up Spike?” Zack asked. “Why’d you ask me here with such vague urgency?”

Cloud kept his back turned to Zack until the tea was ready.

“Sorry Zack, I’ve forgotten if you take milk or not.” Even though he’d made Zack tea a million times he couldn’t remember for the life of him if Zack liked his with milk or not.

“Either way.” Cloud avoided meeting Zack’s eyes as he put the two cups of tea on the side-table.

“Zack, I found out about _you_ killing Angeal from Shinra’s fucking files. Were you going to keep it from me forever?” Cloud’s tone had hard edges as he sat himself down on one of the unpadded, wooden chairs that he dragged on the floor so it would face Zack.

Though he couldn’t look Zack in the eyes, he saw the colour drain from Zack’s face. He had to focus on something else not to scream, so he picked up his tea, his hands shaking so much he spilled some. He took a scalding sip that burned his tongue, but he barely noticed. He could hear Zack uttering a shaky breath, the only interruption to the thick silence that spread between them.

Eventually Zack spoke weakly. “I… I always knew there was a chance that you’d find out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” There was a latent growl in Cloud’s voice, but he hid his face by rubbing his forehead, trying to keep the crushing tension at bay.

“I was too ashamed.” This time Zack’s answer came quickly, as if he’d practiced it in his head a million times, and Cloud cringed from it.

“Oh my gods Zack that’s such a lame excuse!”

“I know.” Zack sighed.

“So what do you think is my issue with this?"

“At first, I guess I was too ashamed to tell you about it because of what I’d done. I thought you’d hate me for that. But then as time went on, I realised it might be a bigger issue that I was hiding something from you. I’m assuming you’re wondering how you’ll ever be able to trust me again.”

“I thought I was more important for you than that. I thought I was worth at least the basic human decency of not being lied to.”

Cloud stole a short glance at Zack who was pinching the bridge of his nose. He continued to rub the horrible crease between his eyebrows. His face hurt from scrunching up too hard. Silence settled over them again. Cloud, who was used to driving the conversation, resisted to do so now. For once he felt like it wasn’t his responsibility.

“It was so hard to tell anyone. I was so disgusted with myself, and I just thought that if anyone else would find out they’d just cut me off. I know that’s probably not logical, but that’s the way I felt,” Zack spoke in a soft, quiet voice which sounded strange to Cloud. None of his usual vigour was in it.

Cloud avoided looking at Zack, just in case Zack’s pathetic appearance would make him want to comfort him. That only left more silence for them to soak in.

“I told my family. They weren’t impressed with me, but I guess it settled eventually. It’s hard to get rid of family after all.”

Zack’s words cut like a knife into Cloud. He knew Zack hadn’t meant to, but the simple statement about family cut into one of his sorest spots.

“That’s the thing though, isn’t it? I thought _we_ _were_ family. Tell me Zack, if you’re not my family, who is?!” And that was all he could manage before he broke into bitter sobs, still shielding his face from Zack with his hand.

It hurt so much to have it thrown in his face so thoughtlessly that Zack hadn’t thought of him like family too. Cloud had always known that it was a possibility, but he’d hoped he’d been wrong. They’d talked about family so many times, from so many different aspects. It came up  _ all the time _ . People are all there is to life, after all. Perhaps even more so in the military. 

It wasn’t as if one could really easily just get married, have kids and  _ be there _ . Many made the choice not to even try, Zack and himself being two of that persuasion. But people still needed people. Still, it was all talk if it wasn’t put into practice, and talk was just air leaving the mouth. It essentially did nothing.

It only took seconds before his sobs had Zack sobbing too, and Cloud couldn’t help but to think that it served Zack right. In the back of his mind he was trying to remember if he’d ever heard Zack cry like that before. He didn’t think so, and that felt pretty good too, in a childish way that he absolutely wasn’t proud of.

Sobs tore through Cloud, making him feel raw exactly in the way he knew he would, and it made him feel uncomfortably exposed. He felt lonely in a way that he hadn’t in years, and that was not a good feeling when his best friend was in the same room. His nerves were ringing out and he wished more than anything that he had someone who would come and hold him, but he and Zack weren’t like that. Because, apparently, they weren’t family, and if they still were friends, he wasn’t certain any longer of what their friendship could contain. 

Besides, he was way too proud to ask the one who’d hurt him to hold him. All he could hope for was that Zack felt the same. It was the only redeeming possibility in the situation.

Their crying went on for some time before silence settled over them, heavy, like a blanket, but not at all comforting.

“I just thought we were more.” Cloud croaked, still looking away from Zack. His eyes roamed the kitchenette cabinets. They were white and boring. Non-committal.

“I’m sorry,” Zack half whispered.

Another wave of crying filled the room. Outside the skies had turned darker, and heavy rain began to fall.

“Did you think about telling me every time we talked about relationships? Or about death? The times we spoke about Angeal?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand how you can live with yourself!”

“I can’t! I fucking hate myself.”

Cloud sighed, now in frustration.

“I don’t want to sound as if I’m making excuses, but I really thought that if I’d tell you that’d be it. I’d never see you again.”

Cloud happened to glance over at Zack just in time to see his face twist with pain. It looked so foreign. He’d never seen Zack look like that before, but he knew it well from looking at himself. Whatever knife that was twisting Zack’s guts, he just let it twist. It was satisfying that Zack wasn’t taking the conversation in stride. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Cloud let it go on for some time before he said something next.

“I don’t understand how you could think that. I’ve killed people too. People I’ve known. Besides, do you think that I throw my friends away that easily? We’ve known each other long enough for you to have seen me end relationships. Do you think I’ve ended them unjustly? Without giving the other party a chance to work it out if they’ve been in the wrong?”

Zack thought about it for a moment. Cloud could tell Zack was picking among possible answers very carefully. It was expected. He knew he had a rumour about ending relationships harshly, abruptly and for petty reasons. Especially after Advent Day. He just thought Zack had known him better than that.

“No, I don’t think you’ve ended any relationships without just reasons. But my feelings didn’t change anyway. There have been times when I’ve thought ‘now is a good time’ or times when I’ve considered bringing it up, but every time I’ve tried to plan the conversation, overwhelming fear of… losing you followed.”

Cloud stole another glance at Zack. He was lying sprawled out on the couch with his eyes closed and traces of tears down his cheeks. Zack’s explanation both made sense and not. He understood the fear of losing someone, but there was also the aspect of honouring someone dear to them with honesty. Overcoming fear  _ because _ you honoured someone. His chest hurt, knowing that Zack hadn’t done that for him. He just wasn’t  _ that _ important for Zack.

“I don’t understand my importance for you if I’m not worth being honest with. I really don’t.”

Zack’s features twisted again, but he kept his eyes closed, and Cloud allowed himself to look, to search for answers in Zack’s face. All he got was mixed messages, so he pressed onwards.

“We talked so much about the difference between theory and practice when it comes to relationships. If you care for me, you certainly haven’t put that care into practice if you’ve been hiding things from me. Something of this magnitude…”

“I know! I’m such a hypocrite!”

It wasn’t the first time Cloud had heard Zack calling himself a hypocrite, but he’d never been specific about why. With hindsight Cloud could see hints of Zack struggling with honesty, transparency, vulnerability-, whatever to call it.

“You stupid idiot,” Cloud sighed. “We’re unequal on almost every level, and you always have the upper hand. You had the chance to level that ground in this  _ one _ instance, and you still didn’t. Everyone feels shame. Everyone’s afraid. I’m afraid all the time. I make less money than you, I don’t have many friends, no  _ real _ family left. On top of that, people want to see me as a fucking hero. Not the way you thought of heroes before Shinra got hauled over, but like, really. Me, saving the world. Don’t you think that affects me? Scares the shit out of me?”

“I do.”

“You’re not so fucking unique that your feelings are different from anyone else’s. The rest of us just get on with it. We just deal,  _ all the time _ . And  _ you _ , you couldn’t even deal this  _ one _ time. Oh my fucking gods.” Cloud turned away from Zack again, infuriated.

“I know.”

“You had the power to make us more equal in this one thing, and you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t, but I really thought that would be it, that I’d never see you again and that just…”

It seemed like the grey skies were pouring in through the window behind Zack and draining all the colour from the world, making it awful and ugly.

Cloud had to have an inner debate on whether he was ready to state his intention clearly or not. It took a few moments, but then he decided they were at that point in the conversation where they weren’t going to get any further unless he did. Part of him felt humiliation over being the one who was budging from his position, but he reminded himself firmly that he didn’t  _ really _ want to punish Zack. Most of him anyway. He forced himself to look at Zack.

“Zack, I have no intentions of ending our friendship over this. I can’t even believe you’d think I’d do that.”

Zack broke down in new sobs, and it was just too hard to bear for Cloud, so he got off the chair and tried to scoot Zack aside so that he could sit down and give the poor man a hug, but they couldn’t fit. Instead Zack clumsily got up and pulled Cloud along with him so they could stand and embrace each other.

“Oh my gods, so awkward,” Cloud mumbled but hugged Zack back for all that he was worth.

They’d never hugged like that before. Cloud could feel Zack’s body plastered desperately against his, and loud sobs over his shoulder. Zack’s warmth bled into him, and it was as if unseen tendrils materialised between them, hooking into them, tying them to one another. The feeling crept up on him, growing slowly until it was overwhelming.

Cloud had never before felt such a connection to Zack, and it went to his head quicker than he had a chance to prepare for. That kind of closeness between them, he’d written it off a long time ago. It felt both new and familiar at the same time, and he found he had nothing to put up against it. How could one resist being close with someone you already loved so much?

It was such an indulgent embrace too. Cloud ran his hands firmly over Zack’s back, trying to soothe the heavy sobs that showed no sign of stopping. It surprised him that Zack hugged him back just as firmly, until Zack even clawed at his back. It was heady, because it was the first time Cloud felt needed by him, which was a bit twisted, given their situation. But then and there it felt so right. He really had no concept of what Zack was feeling. Relief, probably?

But he  _ absolutely _ wasn’t dumb enough to assume that they were feeling the same things. He wasn’t even sure exactly what he himself was feeling. He could tell though, that his own body was running away with things. Treacherously so. Zack’s hands around him felt too good, and his own hands found their way to Zack’s hair, allowing himself to stroke and pull in what he hoped was a comforting manner on those silly, stubborn black spikes that were far too close to a mullet for Cloud’s personal taste.

All he could do was to drink in this rare moment when he had the upper ground, and hope that the rest would be sorted out in time. There was no way he could have taken a step back from Zack in that moment. He would sooner die than to lose that moment, though that was definitely dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

After what felt like an eternity, Zack’s sobs died down, and their grip on each other loosened. Cloud sat down on the sofa, curled up like a ball, hugging himself, as if taking over the hugging duty after Zack. Those tendrils, he could feel their hooks in him, and they were tugging, ringing out, telling him to not let go of Zack. The sofa was so small though, so when Zack sat down he was sitting on Cloud’s feet.

Cloud was surprised when Zack reached out for his hand, awkwardly taking it, as if the distance was painful for him too. Cloud was careful not to assign the gesture any deeper meaning, but it was good to know he wasn’t alone in wanting closeness. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped a switch hadn’t turned on which couldn’t be turned off again. That would be a world of trouble.

“I’m sad because you bereaved us from all the helpful conversations we could have had about this. You took my choice away on how to react to this. To support you properly.” Cloud watched their joined hands. He noticed the comparatively coarse hairs on Zack’s arm.

“Yes, I did.” Zack replied in a voice hoarse with guilt.

“I don’t get to be the best version of me very often. I didn’t make it into SOLDEIR. I’m doing paperwork to hide myself from the unbearable pressure of being a hero. I’m not anyone’s partner or lover. I’m not anyone’s best son any more, not after mom died, and I think I disappointed her before that too. And you took my opportunity to be the best friend you could possibly have too.”

The hairs on Zack’s arm weren’t only coarse, he noticed, they were shiny too. Dark and shiny. Pretty, in their own way.

“It’s not my fault that I like you so much. I didn’t know we’d get along so well. Who would have known that we could do so many things and find them enjoyable together? It’s unlikely, but here we are.”

“Not my fault either,” Zack muttered with his head lowered between snivels.

“You’re my beloved friend, so of course I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to live your life in self-loathing. Of course I want to help with that. You do so many things for me, and  _ I know _ I could have supported you better if I’d known. I’m a really good friend!”

“You are!” Zack croaked. “And let me say, I’ve never once found it bothersome when you’ve needed my help with anything. I never minded coming over because you get more tired than me, or making food, or paying for it. I’ve never once felt that you’re a burden for me.”

“Don’t you understand that goes both ways?! You’ve robbed us of mutual giving and taking. I feel like you’ve let me go to waste, and that’s not a feeling one gets used to.”

Zack started crying again, and Cloud petted Zack’s knees somewhat mechanically but felt too bitter for another embrace.

“You’ve given us the worst point for trying to repair this damage now. It would have been infinitely better if you would have just told me yourself.”

“You’re right.” Zack jerked Cloud’s hand to get Cloud to look at him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah… I know,” Cloud said quietly and hung his head.

“I know this sounds weak, but I want to assure you that I haven’t lied about anything else, or how I feel you about you. I’ve really tried to be as honest as possible about everything else,” Zack said with quiet desperation.

Cloud knew Zack wasn’t lying, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that, clearly, they hadn’t seen their relationship in the same light. Zack had been family for him, but Zack had let it slip that he wasn’t included in Zack’s thoughts in the same way.

Normally, he assigned a great deal of importance to his friends too, but Zack hadn’t lived up to that kind of friendship either, because nothing of importance could contain this level of dishonesty. So, what was left was ‘just friends’, and he wasn’t even sure Zack realised. That was the problem.

By Zack not trusting him to stay despite this lie, that he obviously felt a great deal of shame for, he hadn’t even had a chance to show his love. It was as if Zack had put a limit on their friendship, and their closeness too. He’d made a self-fulfilling prophecy. Cloud had always known there was a chance there were limiters like that on their relationship, but he’d hoped he was wrong. And he hoped they wouldn’t be this big. Gods, it hurt.

“What can I do to help repair this? How can I make you feel better?” Zack squeezed Cloud’s hand.

“I don’t know. I’m not in a position where I have a right to demand that you tell me things. That has to be your choice.”

“Yeah…”

Cloud could tell Zack wanted to do right by him, but that he wasn’t sure how. Or maybe Zack was doubting his own ability to be that honest and transparent. Either way, there was doubt in Zack’s voice.

“Well, if you think about anything, anything at all, please let me know. I want to make this right. I know that’s going to be on me. You  _ are _ important to me.  _ Very _ important.”

Cloud just nodded with his head lowered, grateful that Zack was still holding his hand. It felt like their relationship had gone from something rock solid and very dependable, to impossibly fragile and hanging by a thread in the blink of an eye. He was afraid of how things would continue to change from this point on.

If Zack had been so afraid to show himself vulnerable in front of him, what were the chances that he would be able to do it from now on? They seemed almost close to none. And if that was the case, he didn’t want to keep being vulnerable in front of Zack either. That kind of exchange had to be a two-way street, and he felt like an idiot to have thought that it had been like that already. Disgustingly stupid.

He’d have to reign it in from this point onwards. He couldn’t let himself be humiliated like this again. He had to change the topic. If he broke down over this he’d never stop crying.

“So, what are you going to do for the rest of the day?” Cloud asked.

“Go home. Drink probably.”

“I have some wine! Wanna share?”

“Err… Yeah!”

Cloud got up from the sofa with movements that were too slow for someone his age and constitution; his enhancement. He went to his little pantry, brought the wine and two not-matching wine glasses. He could tell that they’d gotten about as far as they’d get in the conversation they’d just had, but none of them were quite ready to leave the other, though Cloud suspected they felt like that for different reasons.

They ended up getting quite drunk, and the conversation was largely about what they usually talked about. Their mutual friends, video games, politics, work. Cloud thought Zack was a little bit more assertive talking about their future plans together. Not in a big way, just in what games he wanted them to play, and well, he invited Cloud to meet his family in Gongaga, which was quite a big thing Cloud supposed. But he wasn’t sure if it was something Zack wanted or was ready for, or if it was something he did out of guilt. He wasn’t even sure it mattered.

They were still cooped up in the little sofa together, bodies touching. Cloud remembered how they’d been when they first started hanging out. If they’d accidentally touch each other on a sofa they’d fly apart as if something had burned them. Okay, maybe not that bad, but almost. Not that they were disgusted, but because they didn’t want any room for misunderstandings. At least that’s what Cloud always thought.

Zack was gay, and Cloud, well, strictly speaking he supposed he was bi, but he’d sworn off men a long time ago. He just didn’t want to deal with their stunted emotions. That was going well, he thought and resisted to bang his head into a wall.

The wine was polished off, and eventually Zack looked at the time and said he should be going back to his. Cloud nodded and hugged his legs when Zack stood up.

“Would… would you like to hug?”

Cloud nodded and started to get up, but before he had, Zack sank to his knees in front of the sofa and put his arms around him. It happened again, that wave of comfort and gratefulness washing over him, and it felt so good, but so displaced at the same time.

He’d always thought that they could be themselves with each other. He thought that was the kind of relationship they had, and now that he had found out they hadn’t, everything felt broken. He felt so heartbroken, and the only thing that held him together was Zack’s arms around him. The whole world had turned into a contradiction, and it seemed like that was the exact moment his heart finally, really broke.

So, he did the only thing that he could. He cried. It wasn’t the dignified crying he’d done on a few occasions the last couple of years. It was the kind of sobs that wrecked his entire body, made snot run out of his nose and stole the air from his lungs until he thought he’d suffocate. It was the kind of crying that carried the threat of eternity. It wasn’t the kind of crying that brought relief with it. Only destruction.

Zack was sweet about it. Sweeter than he’d ever been before. His arms were strong around him, his hands generous on his back. He was making some sort of sweet little comforting noises that he had no idea Zack could even make, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that. The feeling of being connected to Zack was overwhelming him again, and he could already hear his body  _ scream _ for more of that, which definitely was a first. Useless sack of meat.

It didn’t bother him  _ that _ much, to feel so much love for Zack. They’d had their moments, and he knew who Zack was. It was hardly as if he’d loved Zack since they first met, or every moment between then and now. But at some point he’d just accepted that he liked enough of Zack that the scales would be permanently tipped in favour of him. He’d guessed he knew Zack enough to accept whatever parts of him he didn’t know yet. Lies included, apparently.

What bothered him was that Zack obviously wasn’t in the same place at all. If he had been, there’d be no way for Zack to have thought that this could break them apart. In an instant, that had introduced an unbearable uncertainty about their relationship as far as Cloud was concerned. Did Zack even know him at all?

And there, in their embrace Cloud knew he’d found something really beautiful, something that he really wanted, and in the same moment he knew he had to let it go. Nothing could be built on that kind of fragile uncertainty. And so, he tried to silently say goodbye to what he thought they’d had, but it only made the pain worse.

Eventually it had to end, and he felt every surface that had touched his best friend bleed where they now separated, but he did his best to bear it with some semblance of dignity. And after that, Zack left. Cloud played video games until he was sober again, and then he went to sleep, utterly numb.

The next morning, he woke up to a nightmare. He had to force himself out of bed and to drag his heavy heart to work. He felt as if a limb had been severed. In the evening he was exhausted, but when he went to bed, he couldn’t fall asleep. He cried for hours because the whole world felt broken.

The second day after their argument, that hadn’t even been an argument,- there had hardly been any arguing at all-, Cloud could recognise the feelings that clawed at his insides. He felt as if he’d had an argument with his life partner, and that was unexpected, because he’d never thought of Zack like that. Certainly, he’d considered the potential. It wasn’t perfect at all, but the things they found enjoyable to do together, and how little they needed to enjoy each other’s company, had certainly crossed his mind.

But he didn’t think Zack saw the same in him. He didn’t even know if that was something Zack wanted. And besides, there were big pieces missing between them from what society expected in that kind of relationship. Furthermore, Zack still had his ‘real’ family. Zack had said outright that he didn’t count Cloud as family, so he forced himself to admit that that kind of closeness was completely out of bounds, even though it hurt.

It hurt from his heart to his fingernails, and though he knew better, his body certainly didn’t. It ached for Zack. For the arms that could hold him and his world together for just a little bit longer. And he certainly felt like his world was crumbling.

The world was like playing a video game on a slow computer. Beyond a certain distance the textures stopped loading, and beyond that, nothing, not even placeholders. He felt like he was in an isolated bubble. Like nothing existed beyond it. Like the world wasn’t really real, at least not for him. Like he didn’t have access to it, not really. It hurt to look to the horizon and see nothing but emptiness.

On the third day, he woke up recognising the specific feeling of feeling unloved. It was hardly new. He’d felt it plenty of time before. He had been very unloved in Nibelheim, and that had stunted his social interactions ever since. Few people he’d met had said that they’d loved him, but probably just because his body fit their tastes, and he found it difficult to say no… to things. That, or they’d wanted him to save them. What a fucking joke.

Now he felt acutely aware that something about him wasn’t to Zack’s liking. Something was wrong with him, because Zack didn’t love him enough to be honest and vulnerable with him. It wasn’t Zack’s fault. It was just the way it was. The way  _ he _ was. Broken and unlovable.

He wondered if Zack had loved him more if he’d been more like the old days before all that with Angeal, Sephiroth and Advent Day. Before his life got too heavy with responsibility and pressure. Before he’d become so bitter. Or simply before he’d become older, a little bit pudgier, and a whole lot more tired. He’d never thought Zack had cared much about those things, but now his worry about it was like a festering wound.

Though his body was dumb, he certainly wasn’t. He knew very well that this stupid aching for Zack’s comfort was some sort of stupid leftover hormonal reference to when he used to date men. He knew his references were mixed up, and that this stupid ‘argument’ had triggered them, along with all his wounds of being bullied and unloved by people when he’d been younger.

Unfortunately, that didn’t diminish his feelings. Though he knew better, he still had to battle out his impulses to call Zack, to ask Zack to come by, just for a tiny bit, just for one hug. It wouldn’t be fruitful. Even if Zack would have come, maybe even quite happily, Cloud doubted it would be good for any of them. In fact, it could even make things worse.

If these stupid, idiotic, fucked up feelings that had been triggered were somehow mixed up with romantic love, he figured they were on a timer. Romance only lasted that long if you starved it to death. He gave it three weeks. They’d just be three, really, really shitty weeks. He could wait it out. What was three weeks in the bigger picture?

But the feelings of not being loved, those were far more worrisome. He felt stupid for many reasons, but one of the worst ones were that he’d actually believed that Zack’s and Tifa’s friendships had somehow healed him. He’d felt alright the last few years. He’d been alone, single, sometimes dating, mostly hiding from the world, but he’d never ever felt alone.

For the first time in years he’d thought maybe he didn’t have to have a significant other and kids to… not die alone, or at least not feeling lonely. He’d truly cherished every moment he’d had with the two of them, and it had been what he’d cherished most in his entire life.

Now it felt like the plug had been pulled out and all the meaning of his life was quickly draining. Sure, he still had Tifa, but it hadn’t been Tifa he’d spent the majority of his time with. It wasn’t him and Tifa who’d been texting casually, daily for the last few years. Tifa was very involved with her community and friends and just hadn’t the time. And one person… it just wasn’t enough. Two people wasn’t enough either, but he’d had to make do with that.

That evening he and Zack had played video games together, one of their favourite pastimes, and it had been so nice. He’d even had one of his laughing fits. It had felt pretty normal. But then after their session he’d found himself lying on the kitchen floor crying. Over the next few days he cried in the shower, at work, in his bed. The sense of loss was just overwhelming.

He hated himself for having let his and Zack’s friendship sneak up on him. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t get that close to someone as long as he knew he couldn’t afford to lose that someone. Apparently, he’d gravely misjudged Zack’s importance in his life, and he truly hadn’t realised until now. Either that, or his stupid brain chemistry just fucked him completely over with its total confusion. Either way it was awful, and he just wanted it to be over. He was ready for it to be over.

He’d lived his life to the best of his ability. It hadn’t amounted to much on a personal level, but he was pretty sure he’d leave the world a slightly better place than when he’d entered it. He’d killed Sephiroth twice, and helped greatly with Shinra’s re-organisation after Advent Day. He’d had a few good moments, a few good friendships, a few good fucks. He’d been tired for a while, and nothing ever seemed to really make it better. And this… this was just too large an overdraw on his account.

He really didn’t know what to do with that. How to bounce back. But he’d give it three weeks. It was just feelings after all. They were hardly set in stone. So he put himself to bed and tucked himself in, pulling his blanket up to his chin. He did his best to steel himself for another shaky night.


	2. Solid floors for broken people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud struggles to find his balance again, after his and Zack's argument.
> 
> CW: depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has not been betaed.

Every day the following week Cloud’s first thought was Zack, which meant he woke up crying, and respectively cried himself to sleep, Zack being the last thing he thought of. Everywhere he went his feet were dragging. He cried in the elevator, took breaks from his shifts to cry in the restrooms. He just couldn’t stop. He felt like he had an open wound, and he was bleeding to death in plain sight.

Every day he longed for Zack, for his food, his attention, his comfort, his arms, and he denied himself almost all of it. If he still felt the same in three weeks, he promised himself he’d do something about it, but until then he kept his raging emotions on a tight leash. Except for the crying and the weight of his endless sorrow which was out of his control.

Every day Zack sent him messages. Just little updates on his everyday life, and sometimes Cloud found himself so affected by them he felt shivers down his spine. Only if he was too tired to chide himself for the ridiculousness did he let himself enjoy it. He hoped his desperate longing didn’t come across in his replies.

Sometimes he would send messages to Zack too, but he questioned it when he found himself glued to his phone like some broad in a stupid movie. He knew it was most likely just Zack’s guilt that made the messaging so intense. He knew it might not be the best way to deal with the situation, but he was too tired to do anything else about it.

One week later he was still crying just as much, and he felt like the colour was entirely faded from the world. When he didn’t even enjoy his favourite TV-show anymore he called Tifa and asked to stay there for a few days. Tifa never said no.

Said and done, he walked into Tifa’s bar on a Saturday evening. He kept himself together at the bar, downing drinks, making small talk with Tifa until he was ready to pass out in one of the guest rooms upstairs.

On the Sunday morning he woke up, and walked down the stairs straight into the bar where he knew Tifa would be, sat down on an empty chair, folded his arms and laid his head down on them.

“Cloud?” he heard Tifa say, just before he felt her hand on his back. The kind touch felt foreign, like knives cutting into him, and it sent anxiety-pains radiating from his chest into his extremities. He just sighed, forcing himself not to flinch away from it.

“It’s that bad?” she said, and put herself in Cloud’s line of sight, expecting that he’d open his eyes. “Okay, come on Mr. Infantry.” She took Cloud’s arm and started dragging him in behind the bar where a staircase led to her own flat.

She led him to the comfortably worn sofa in her living room and pushed him to sit down on it, taking her place next to him, letting her hand slide down his arm to take his hand.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, steady and kind.

In Cloud’s head thoughts were a tornado, whirring around, moving too fast for him to grasp any single thought. He pulled breath a few times, trying to start, but failed. Instead, he ignored her hand and folded himself over with a groan, trying to apply a soothing pressure on his aching chest.

“Come on, you made it all the way here,” she gently soothed.

Cloud nodded and sighed again, trying to let his tension drift away with the air that left his lungs. Okay, baby steps.

“It’s about Zack.”

“Mhm?” Tifa was not sounding the least bit surprised.

“I… We had an argument, except, it wasn’t really an argument. Anyway, I feel shit about it.”

“Okay? What happened?”

Cloud pulled new air into his lungs, trying to force himself to speak more, but he still couldn’t find the beginning. It happened to him sometimes, that his anxiety muted him. It didn’t happen as often as it had when he was a child, and he could often power past it, but it was still difficult. After a few excruciating false starts, he simply started with the most basic of what had passed between him and Zack.

“He lied to me.”

Then followed a haphazard explanation of the ‘argument’ that wasn’t really an argument, jumbled, chopped up and chaotic. Tifa knew him well enough to patiently listen. At the end, she got the gist of it, and he knew she had an inkling to why he was so bothered by it. Her hand was steady on his back, moving gently up and down, and though it still pained him, he let it be.

“I know you feel betrayed, but as stupid as it is, it sounds like he really did what he did out of fear of losing you.”

“Okay. Even if that’s true it also means that he doesn’t in fact know me. _He doesn’t know me_ Tifa. What the fuck do I do with that?”

Cloud clutched at his chest, because the implications were just too overwhelming. If someone he’d spent so much time with still didn’t know him, _what did it even mean_ to know someone? Was there such a thing? And what if there wasn’t? What then?

She sighed but refrained from replying. Cloud realised it was because she knew better than to try to speak in Zack’s stead. Besides, she didn’t know Zack like Cloud did. Not even close. It was the smart choice, to stay silent.

“And then… there is this wanting. Like my body _wants_ him, Tifa. I’m… I’m so embarrassed, and I’m so ashamed. We’ve never been like that, and I don’t even date men any more…”

“Oh honey… That sounds difficult, but it doesn’t sound like something you should be ashamed of?”

“Why the fuck not?” Cloud sighed, feeling hopeless about himself.

“Well, when we argue with our close ones, isn’t it natural to want to be close? I’ve felt that with people I consider my family, romantic or not. Perhaps… some of those wires are just a bit mixed up? I mean… it happens?”

Cloud hummed in recognition but stayed unconvinced. He contemplated whether there was a point or not to give her more context. He could have talked more about the loss of his family; how his particular experiences with ‘saving the world’ – he inwardly cringed at the very thought – cut him off from it. He’d talked to her about it plenty of times before, but he also knew this was where her understanding of his particular life’s experiences reached their limits.

That was okay. It had to be. He’d long since given up on finding someone who’d really understand him. Perhaps that made him even more sore to the thought that Zack didn’t at all, not even on the most basic level.

He decided not to say more about it, worried that it would just make Tifa feel guilty about the gaps in their friendship. That wouldn’t help any one of them anyway.

Instead, he just curled up on the sofa, turned his back to her and threaded her arms around him. The arms he felt like he didn’t deserve but wanted so desperately anyway. The arms that for the moment took the place of Zack’s, although that too was unfair.

“Can you just…” Cloud’s voice was rough and fading, but Tifa got it.

“’Course,” she murmured softly and wrapped her strong arms around him.

Cloud always marvelled over her strength. He and Zack were enhanced. Their strength was easy to trace. Hers was all of her own making, and that always humbled him. On Advent Day her punch packed almost as much as his own, and for the millionth time he wondered why it had ended up being him. It could have been any one of them that dealt that final blow. He sighed again, heavily.

…

He ended up staying there for nearly a week. He felt better when he left, but only so good that every breath didn’t feel like acid burning his lungs. The first thing he did when he came home was still to cry. And swear at himself, condoning his own stupidity.

He decided to put some distance between himself and Zack. It was just the safest thing for him to do. If it wasn’t needed, they’d find their way back to each other, and if it _was_ needed, well, then at least he’d be two weeks further along on his mending path.

It was almost like performing surgery on himself, to exert the kind of mindful control over his will to not pick up the phone and text Zack. To not pick up the phone and dial Zack’s number when something good or bad happened at work. To not pass on the photos of cute animals he came across during the slow office working hours.

At times it felt like self-mutilation, perhaps even more so when Zack acted like nothing was wrong. Zack kept texting him even more than usual, little tentative check-ins and mundane updates. Cloud was certain they would peter out, so on top of stopping himself, he also had to make an effort to not ascribe them any deeper meaning. It was probably just guilt.

..

They decided to meet up a week after Cloud had returned from Tifa, but as the evening approached Cloud felt his anxiety ramp up to unacceptable levels, and he cancelled on short notice.

They tried again a week later, and on Zack’s initiative they invited Kunsel along. It was just a normal beer night at the arcade hall, nothing special. Perhaps it would be for the best for them, not to be alone? In case Cloud’s feelings would… become inappropriate. A little social shielding might be just what they needed.

Cloud was the last of the three to arrive at the arcade with the salvaged, beat up machines. Kunsel preferred machines pristine and speck-free, but him and Zack thought the crudely patched up machines had charm. He especially, was fond of the thought that things could be valued despite their flaws. His thoughts distracted him while he moved between cracked screens and exposed wires to the point where Zack’s and Kunsel’s presences snuck up on him as he approached their table.

They looked so normal where they sat, half of their first beers already downed. It made him pause his steps to adjust his demeanour, making it brighter. If this is how Zack wanted to play it, then he had to play along.

Kunsel and Zack had known each other much longer than he’d known any of them, but his and Kunsel’s friendship had evolved to the point where they spent time alone now and then. They weren’t close, but they had shared some good times.

It still happened that Zack and Kunsel fell into conversation that had nothing to with him though, and sometimes they didn’t notice. He hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days, or that he could just carry his silence lightly if it did.

As soon as they saw him, they greeted him _normally_ ; cheerfully. They played video games and drank beer _normally_. Cloud lost most games like he usually did, and he tried to laugh about it as much as he _normally_ would have done. But inside he just felt broken. Like there was a Zack-shaped hole in his heart.

It was strange to finally be so close to Zack again, but without any acknowledgement of what had passed between them since last they’d met. It made him feel like he’d made it all up, or at least greatly exaggerated the importance of it. Or perhaps, it had only been of importance to him. He swallowed hard, trying to accept that this was what it was like having relationships with other people. One could never really know.

Kunsel was the first to excuse himself that evening. He had a wife and child to take care of after all, and it was a working night. It left him and Zack to fend for themselves a little while, before they had to part ways to make for their respective homes.

Cloud expected the mood to change, to something of importance, something of recognition, but Zack kept chatting about his work, passing on gossip about his co-workers, and pointing out bad decisions of his managers.

Truth be told, it was throwing him off, and he ended up listening without interjections. He did his best to be content with just soaking up being in Zack’s vicinity again. It did feel good, but terribly one-sided. It was a draining position to be in, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t be alone in leading this relationship, so he didn’t. He just let things be. He did get a longer-than-normal hug before they separated, and that was all.

Cloud had chosen to move in to the first skyscraper in Edge, choosing it for the similarities it had to the Shinra Tower. It made it feel like home. The height felt like broken in, old, comfortable shoes. Yes, he’d had some of the best and worst moments of his life in that tower, but it was what he knew. He’d demanded the smallest flat though. There had to be some fucking limits to all the stupid hero-worship he was being subjected to.

As soon as he’d stepped inside his front door he crouched down on the floor, but the small respite he’d planned turned into a heavy tiredness. After too long already, he sat his ass on the floor and pulled off his boots with great labour.

It was childish, but he crawled further into his flat, making it as far as the living room carpet, where he laid down and remained lying. He liked the floor, the hardness of it. It was all he deserved, and all he needed. Besides, it felt cooling and grounding. Solid, in a world where not much else was. So, he slept there that night.

...

The next time he and Zack were to meet up Zack invited someone along again. And the time after that too. In fact, it happened so many times Cloud found himself on Tifa’s sofa again, venting about it.

He didn’t know what to make of it. Was this Zack’s way of hiding from him? Would they never spend time alone together again? Had he broken them completely? Was Zack afraid of him? Afraid of breaking him? Had he noticed his stupid, gods-forsaken attraction? Was he disgusted with him because of it? What was this about?

Tifa was patient, suggesting him to be patient too. She pointed out the obvious solution: for him to ask Zack about it. It wasn’t as if Cloud hadn’t thought about it. He just didn’t want to. What if he wouldn’t like the answer? What if there was no answer? Besides, it would put him back in the driver’s seat of his and Zack’s relationship, and he _really_ didn’t want that.

It passed, eventually, this phase of Zack inviting other people along. Sometimes Cloud wondered if Tifa had anything to do with it. Not that he would mind if she did. He decided to give it more time before he brought anything up for discussion with Zack.

Time hadn’t healed every wound, but it had taken care of the worst of most of them. He didn’t long for Zack the same way anymore, and that was definitely a pointer in the right direction.

The world never really regained its colours though. He noticed it when he stood in line in the supermarket, staring at some stranger’s necklace. It looked drab. The glaring food packaging seemed muted too, as well as the square patterned tiles on the floor. Didn’t they used to sting his eyes? Now they just seemed like different shades of grey. Drab, drab, _drab_.

Most days were alright though, and if they weren’t, he chopped them up into small, manageable pieces so that he could survive them.

He and Zack found a new pace. It wasn’t what they’d had before, and it wasn’t the best case scenario after that argument, but it kept him alive. Zack cooked for him, kept him alive. Tifa took care of his ethereal parts and it kept him alive. His other friends drifted in and out of his life, walking with him for bits of the way, and he was grateful to them all.

The days he had alone were cherished too. He would read, go to museums if he could go when everyone else was generally working. He would look at art, take long walks in the city and think. Sometimes he would go to back to the ruins of Midgar to visit Aerith’s church. There he just… existed.

He missed her. She might not have told him everything, and they hadn’t known each other for that long, but she’d been dependable somehow. He missed that.

One day, sitting there he realised he felt stuck. He never knew what to hope for, or what to prepare for when it came to his own life. It seemed to him other people assumed that things were going to work out. Things like work, relationships, the environmental crises that followed in the wake of Shinra… Sometimes of course, they in fact didn't work out, and people dealt with it at the time, and then they just _forgot_. They just went back to everything being normal. Went back to hoping.

Well, that didn’t work for him. Almost nothing had been what anyone would call normal in his life. Sure, being bullied as a child was normal enough, and his first years with Shinra had been alright, if a soldier’s life could be considered being that. After that he never had a brush with normalcy again.

Tifa always tried to convince him that the worst was behind him, and she said it like she believed it. Problem was, he couldn’t. The statistics of his life were too fucked up. What were the chances that from here on out he’d find his way back to that path his mother had promised him? A quiet life with a wife a kid. No way. He couldn’t bear the thought of bringing a child into this scarred world anyway. He could just barely manage to live in it himself.

Zack usually took a more empathetic path, but now and then Cloud wondered if Zack was just parroting back things that he’d heard or read. Sometimes it was painfully obvious Zack hadn’t put any thought into what he was saying, and that made him question their friendship again, reminding him to keep distance.

Honestly, he didn’t think he could come back from one more ‘argument’ like that. Before he had a chance to consider the implications closely, he shoved the thought carefully aside, locking it away, hopefully forever.

Sometimes he thought of Sephiroth. After Advent Day he assumed he’d learned something about the loneliness Sephiroth must have felt. He desperately hoped that nothing of Jenova remained in him that would make him come back after death. He wondered if Sephiroth’s anger was partly made up of resentment for being brought back. If it had been, he certainly couldn’t hold that against the man. Not to make excuses for what he’d had done, or had tried to do.

…

Months passed and Cloud did find that he’d bounced back, more or less. Just when he thought he was quite alright, things came crashing in on him again. For example, that time Zack decided to pick up his contact with Mark again.

Mark who was ten years Zack’s junior had been quite the lost young soul. Mark and Zack had dated for just short of a year, and their relationship has escalated to something very chaotic, with Mark taking out issues on Zack that had nothing to do with him. He even publicly accused Zack of sexual assault. An accusation that didn’t hold up for long, but long enough to jar Zack, for sure.

It jarred many of Zack’s friends too, Cloud included. Him and Tifa had invited Zack over for a serious walkthrough of what had happened, before both they’d come to their own conclusions that the accusations had been false.

So, when Zack mentioned casually that he was in contact with Mark again, it hit Cloud like a punch in the guts. Cloud made his disapproval known, and they’d even made a bet on whether it would spiral into something horrible or not.

In the end Cloud had won, not because Mark had done something. Apparently, Zack and Mark had gone out for dinner to ‘talk’ about the way things had ended between them. Zack blamed the atmosphere, Mark’s attractiveness and the wine, but to Cloud it didn’t matter. It mattered that _Zack had kissed Mark_ at the end of that dinner.

Mark, who had accused Zack of rape. _He_ received a kiss. Meanwhile, Zack’s lavishing attentions over Cloud certainly had faded. Cloud was grateful if he could have ten minutes of Zack’s unbroken attention, without Zack picking up his phone and texting one of his flirts or family. It was sickening.

It made Cloud look at himself in the mirror, searching for the flaw that made him so damn unlovable. He could never find it, but he had no doubts it was there.

Zack’s ‘little blunder’ with Mark also reminded him to carefully make cuts into his and Zack’s bond, making sure to keep it weak. He had to be prepared to sever it any time. Zack could find someone else _any time_. There was every chance Zack would choose a more traditional partnership eventually.

If Mark could earn a kiss after accusing Zack for rape, anything was possible. And it wasn’t as if that was the last Cloud heard about Mark either. Every now and then he popped up in casual conversation. As if ‘being accused of a little rape’ was normal. Something in the past, that bore no consequences to them going forward. A parenthesis. What the fuck. Cloud was certain he’d frowned permanently for weeks after that.

A month and a half before Yule tidings, Cloud was invited to meet Zack’s family. It had been something he’d requested, if only for the simple reason of putting a face to their names. Zack talked about them often, after all. He’d almost given up on it altogether when Zack finally asked him.

Cloud had arrived a little later than he’d preferred, but the dinner had gone well enough. Zack’s family was lovely. His father had a hearty laugh, and his mother seemed full of life despite her age. He had a brother and sister too. Zack’s brother was a little goofier than him, and his sister was quiet but seemed to have her own kind of wisdom and charm.

A week later, Zack had come over for one of their casual video game nights, and Zack mentioned that his father had taken a liking to him and had suggested Cloud join them for Yule. Initially Cloud’s heart had soared, but then he thought better of it than accepting the invitation so easily.

“Let me think about it,” he said, and inwardly added ‘fuck that bloody Yule’. It was a time for families and couples. Not for strays and loners, or ‘saviours’. He rolled his eyes.

Since his mother had died Yule had brought him nothing but pain and trouble, and he’d learned the hard way to manage his expectations very carefully.

“Okay,” Zack shrugged, clearly not reflecting on Cloud’s non-reply.

Cloud mulled over the invitation for a good week, before he decided to decline. He wasn’t blind. He knew what it must have looked like, Zack bringing someone home like that. He knew it wasn’t something Zack did often, or lightly. Of course, his father would have seen them _that_ way. Zack’s parents were getting old, and wanted to see him with someone.

But he was _not_ that someone, and he did _not_ want to be a placeholder-partner at the Yule table. He had done that before, at other people’s tables, and with the years it had become agony to be bounced between friends and temporary partners each year. Each year he saw his friends exchanging concerned looks when they thought he couldn’t see.

They all did their best, but he never really fitted in anywhere in a permanent way, and he never found a default option other than being by himself; something that seemed to stress his friends out more than it did him.

Either way, he would _not_ live through that with Zack too. He’d much rather spend Yule alone than forever having to live with the memory of spending it with Zack, his best friend, that _one_ time.

The idea of joining Zack for Yule tidings seemed even worse if he considered being invited even _after_ Zack settled into a more permanent relationship. The thought was so utterly ridiculous it made him laugh a terrible, bitter laugh that unexpectedly made him think of Sephiroth. He shut his mouth with a startled clatter.

Zack made nothing of him declining the invitation. Of course he wouldn’t. Cloud knew he wouldn’t, but it still stung anyway.

Most of the time he was fine, truly fine. But every now and then, when he had to chop his days into more than two bits to make it through them, the blunt meaningless of it all hit him with full strength.

There were days when he wondered why he should make an effort to hang on to his shoddy life, doing it partly for Zack’s sake, when Zack seemed to care so little about him.

But when asked, Zack and Tifa both said he was important to them. Among their most important people. He hated it, and he thought it was thoroughly unfair, but what choice did he have other than to take that at face value?

He wished that things were different, that he mattered as much to them as they did to him, but circumstances dictated that it would never be that way. It was simply not the cards dealt to him.

He tried to bear what he had with some semblance of dignity. The rest would have to come later. And so, he started to chop the rest of his life into portions of days, weeks maybe, instead of months or years.

To cut a day into a piece or two suddenly seemed like old hat. A heavy old hat and a knife so blunt, every so often it threatened to slip and cut into him instead of his days. That, exactly that, was his cards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you kind people who have taken an interest to this (in my opinion) painfully smut-free fic. I know some of you requested a happy ending, and it might still happen, but it just isn't there yet.
> 
> I saw someone had bookmarked this with a Chinese comment that I tried to google translate. I'm not sure that I got the comment right, but regardless, it made me so incredibly touched. Thank you people, who take the time to read and appreciate this little melancholy ficlet.


	3. Lux Gaia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's New Year's Eve, and Cloud is supposed to spend it with his friends. Instead he bails and ends up in Aeris's old church, where he contemplates his life.
> 
> TW: depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the closest I'll come to doing a hoilday-themed peice I guess. Insipired by choir piece "Lux Aurumque" which checks all of my choir preferences. I recommend a listen. It's on youtube!

Cloud was sitting in the back row pew in what was left of Aeris’s church. 

It was New Year’s Eve, though still not quite midnight yet. He’d made plans to spend the evening with Tifa and Zack, and he’d been over at Tifa’s early to help prep their dinner.

She’d been chatty, talking about the kids at the orphanage, articles she’d been reading, the mundane stupidity of people around her. Nothing bad. He’d tried to listen. Tried to join in. Tried, but failed.

Instead, he’d become occupied with contemplating how vividly she seemed to live in this world. Everything she said told him she was connected to it, grounded and rooted. As if this world was her to live in as she found fit. As if she belonged in it.

Yes, they’d had some common experiences. They’d shared a big, long, important journey, and she had damage to show from it. Afterwards, she had become even  _ more _ involved in the health of the planet. She was on the board in several eco-organisations who worked with environmental issues, that persisted after Shinra’s exploitation, on the side of running her bar.

But her damage was different from his, or perhaps she just dealt with it differently. Something was different, because he could not feel connected at all. Of course, he was attached at a few points. He loved Denzel and Marlene, Tifa and Zack, and felt a great fondness for the others with who he’d journeyed.

Still, that didn’t seem enough to make him feel like he belonged, and that was difficult to bear. Usually, he tried not to think of it, but now and then he couldn’t push the fact of his feelings away. 

Besides, the mundanity of Tifa’s chatter unsettled something else in him that he didn’t like. It could be jealousy, but he wasn’t sure. It made him think ill of her. There was a part of him who just wanted to ask  _ why _ she cared so much about all these little nonsensical things. A part of him felt it was dumb, and that wasn’t fair. And so, he’d excused himself and left before Zack had arrived.

He could feel the sorrow of his particular variety of loneliness in his bones, set too deeply to make an appearance as simple tears. Still, it hurt and made him feel restless, so he took to walking. Without even knowing where he was headed, his feet had led him through Edge, towards the Midgar ruins. It was a long walk, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere special, now that he’d broken off the plans.

It took him hours, and somewhere along the way, he knew he was aiming for the remains of the church. It was hardly the first time he’d ended up there. He wondered if they still hosted a New Year’s celebration there.

He’d been there the first New Year’s Eve after Advent Day. He’d been recognised and been asked to give some sort of speech before the packed church. Needless to say, it had been a disaster, and he’d spent New Year’s elsewhere since. It had felt a bit like a violation, not being able to go there undisturbed, but of course, the church didn’t belong to him just because he’d known Aeris personally. It hadn’t  _ really _ belonged to her either. Besides, as far as he knew, it was the only time the church was occupied by any sort of formal gathering. 

He decided that if the celebration was still happening, he’d sneak in, prepared this time to hide from the public eye. He wanted so badly to see Aeris. It was ironic, but he felt more connected to her than to what was left of Gaia, though she was dead. He hated the mood he was in, and he was glad he wasn’t with his friends, sparing them from it. They deserved better.

When he had arrived the church was still empty, even though midnight was scarcely dozens of minutes away. The only people around seemed to belong to the choir. They all wore the same outfit he remembered from years ago. It was made out of white fur and had looked quite ridiculous to him then. It still did. Fur made sense though, since the church was cold and damp, especially this time a year.

In fact, it was one of the few places he could feel cold. Why he didn’t know. Something was different about the church. He’d just assumed the mako worked differently there. With silent steps, he walked through the large wooden gates which always stood ajar. The roof was broken, so what would be the point in closing them?

He sat himself down in the darkest, furthest back corner of the church, hoping that no one would notice. His eyes were drawn to the flickering torch lights at the front of the church, lighting up the space for the choir. With a deep breath, he slid down in the pews to place the back of his head on the low backrest so that he could look up at the sky through the large gaping hole in the ceiling.

It was a clear night, and to the far side of Edge he could see a few stars speckling the dark grey despite the light pollution from the city. It made him remember Bugenhagen’s planetarium; one of his fondest memories. Not that it had been an overly joyous occasion. But being there, learning about the planet’s life together with his friends had tied them closer to each other. The projections in the laboratory had just been so beautiful. It had given him perspective, to see the system of the planets from so far away. Context. He’d felt connected then and there, to the others, and Gaia.

The first tone of the choir was so faint it sneaked up on him, and the next moment, it branched out to the first chord. With his eyes still closed, the music seemed like a gust of wind that gave him flight with wings he didn’t have. The next phrase let him float on a gentle, slow, luminescent melody, up over the church and into the clouds, above them, until he could see the stars on a clear sky.

Climbing voices lifted him across the sky, higher and higher until the night gave way to golden beams of sunlight. Perfect, unintrusive harmonies guided him until he found himself right outside the gates of the promised land. So bright and pure were the voices that carried him.

But of course, the promised land would be behind gates, and of course, they would be closed for him. He heard a bitter laugh then, and he startled from it, only to notice it had been his own. For a split second, he thought it had been Sephiroth. Gaia, had they really become so alike?

He quickly snapped his mouth shut, hoping no one had heard him. For the rest of the first piece, he sat up straight and looked towards the front of the church. To what was there in front of him, in an attempt not to fixate on the idea that he might be as bitter as Sephiroth had been, just before madness had whisked him away completely.

The language the choir sang in was one that was reserved for prayers and hymns. He didn’t know it, but he recognised ‘Gloria’ and ‘Gaia’. A hymn then, he surmised. What praises they could possibly find to sing, he never understood.

No god had ever answered his prayers or helped him in any way that he actually valued. Though he’d won countless battles with their avatars, he wasn’t sure that he cared for that. He was never sure if he was using their aid, or if they were using him to execute their will. His beliefs tended to lean toward the latter.

There were days the ‘gifts’ they’d bestowed upon him felt more like a curse. So did the fame of being ‘the saviour’. He loathed that in particular. He’d often examined his loneliness, trying to see it from different angles, to find a way to disband it. He’ never could make out if the fame or his physical enhancements were at the heart of the problem.

All that he knew was that they combined made it very,  _ very _ hard for people to know him. The fame had people worshipping him like a living god, which was just about the worst thing he knew. It was all about his position, and nothing about him as a human being, if he could believe he still was one.

And the enhancements, well, they’d put him in that position he supposed. One followed the other, and together they’d created this terrible rift between him and the rest of the world. Perhaps it was Gaia’s will, or just part of the cost for having stopped Sephiroth.

People always liked to say that he’d saved the world, but he’d always found that utterly ridiculous. Firstly, he hadn’t done it alone, and he never could have. What was the point in pretending that  _ he _ , in particular, had accomplished such a feat? Secondly, he hadn’t even wanted to, but someone had to stop Sephiroth, and he’d simply found himself in a position where he could, so he had. It was all about positions.

The worst of it was that he didn’t necessarily  _ believe _ the world had been saved. Sure, they’d stopped Sephiroth and Comet, but studies about the planet’s condition were inconclusive at best. Scientists couldn’t unanimously say whether it was recovering or not.

Parts of Gaia sure  _ looked _ dead to him. Other parts  _ felt _ dead. Recovering or not, it had certainly sustained heavy damage, and it would take hundreds, if not thousands of years for it to repair. How was that something to celebrate at all?

Meanwhile, quality of life had rapidly declined with the fall of Shinra. Multitudes of new companies were being formed, looking for alternative ‘sustainable energy sources’. But that’s what Shinra had called mako energy right up to the end. It had just been a question of branding. Realistically, it could all happen again, and no one would find out for years and years. Shinra had gone on for three generations without any issues.

A cautiously resolved chord ended the first piece, and a particular kind of silence replaced the last note fading. It seemed thicker than other silences. Not uncomfortable, but suspenseful, building the potential for the next choral. When it began, it wasn’t as ethereal, but more straightforwardly bitter-sweet. It made him feel intensely nostalgic, to the point where he could smell snow and woodfire.

It made him remember the pelt he used to sit on while his mother read stories around Yule and New Year’s as a child. They’d never had much to celebrate with, but spending quiet time with her had been enough to make it special for him.

She had been such an anchor for him. Even though the other children in Nibelheim had bullied him, and his school years had him in nightmares for a decade after, he had some fond memories of his home town. 

He remembered climbing the evergreen fir trees to look over the sparkling hilltops, collecting bird’s eggs. Chafed hands, stinging from rough bark, soothed at once by the sticky sap which helped to mend the small cuts. He’d always love the scent of frost and pine trees.

He recalled the general feeling of being safe, trusting his mother’s promises that things would get better as he grew up. She’d wholeheartedly supported him when he said he wanted to go to Midgar, and she would imagine his life in SOLDIER together with him. 

He’d realised later it had been accursed fantasies, lacking any substance, but at the time it had given him hope for himself. For his future. And it must have been a lot of hope too, because it had taken him a long time for it to run out.

Another pause in the music let that thought ring out with its agitating gloom. In a way, it was only fitting that the next piece would be something less bright and cheerful altogether.

It brought to mind the less cheerful aspects of his youth, for example, the deep wounds he still carried from Tifa’s wavering favour of him. The only time he’d asked her about it she’d broken out in tears of guilt and regret. It hadn’t been helpful, so he'd decided never to bring it up again.

Onwards, he thought of the disappointment of failing the SOLDIER exams, and how he’d befriended Sephiroth who’d comforted him back then. Even now, after all that had happened, he still longed to speak to Sephiroth like he had been able to at that point in his life.

For a while, he thought Sephiroth was his life’s companion. He thought they’d been in love, - and perhaps they had been. He thought they'd understood one and other, and though Sephiroth had been troubled from the start, he’d been certain that they could find a way out of that together.

The comfort and understanding Sephiroth had offered had been displaced in favour of pain so smoothly it had been hard to detect as it happened. It had only become evident to him in the final part of Sephiroth’s descent to madness. To realise what had been going on had been the most excruciating experience in his life. It was strange looking back at that time of his life. He could remember being in agony, crying every night over the unimaginable Nibelheim massacre and his mother, but he couldn’t  _ feel _ it any longer. 

Feeling pain that deep had become as rare as feeling true joy. Granted, the argument he’d had with Zack had brought some of it to the surface.

A heavy sigh, and then he shifted to lie down on the pew. He could feel the tiredness that was always there, that he had to fight constantly to keep at bay. It was seeping into his blood alongside the chill from the damp, wood. It was neither tiredness of the mind or the body. It felt like a tiredness of the soul.

He was well aware that he couldn’t afford to indulge in it. He knew that it would interfere with his careful chopping up time to live his life in little manageable bits. He could feel how the tiredness threatened to outgrow his capabilities of coping, and if he let it get a proper hold, he might never get rid of it again.

But now the choir seemed to sing especially for him, calling for him to mourn over his own life. For all that it hadn’t been, and everything that he’d never been given.

Whenever he made the mistake of piecing his chopped up pieces back into the narrative of his own life, it was such a miserable story. Even now, he felt like not a single aspect of his life was  _ really _ functioning. He didn’t have a steady family. He didn’t have enough friends to satisfy his needs for other people, and his unwanted ‘saviour’ status made it difficult to remedy.

He had money because he had a job, and he could always supplement his income with monster hunting, but it wasn’t as if anyone had paid him for doing Sephiroth in. Actually, he’d had to go to an Edge committee hearing and give an account for the damage he’d done during his last fight with Sephiroth. Someone had to sign off that he’d done as little damage as possible. As if he’d been the one who’d summoned Bahamut.

He sighed another heavy sigh.

He’d never had a lover who’d been good for him. Perhaps they hadn’t even loved him, or if they had, it most certainly wasn’t a healthy kind of love. The best he’d ever had was still Sephiroth. The same Sephiroth who’d ended up spearing him on a sword. Twice. He nearly groaned out loud thinking about it.

Tifa thought he should try dating again, and now and then, he'd tried. Only to find that nine out of ten wanted to see him because they’d recognised him as the ‘hero of the planet’. As far as he was concerned, they were disqualified by default. The rest, well… some he hadn’t found attractive. With the few who were left, he'd found that he had absolutely nothing to offer. No home-building aspirations, and no family. No large sum of money, and not exactly a shimmering diamond for a personality.

And then there was the eternal catch twenty-two: if he truly liked someone, he wanted to spare them from all the horribly broken parts of himself. The ones with edges sharp enough to cut, and the black, festering, wounds that seemed to be contagious. As if the geostigma hadn’t healed, just made immaterial and invisible to the naked eye. Phantom wounds on phantom limbs. Only, it wasn’t exactly limbs that he’d lost.

When it came to being close with other people, he could barely allow that with Tifa and Zack. On despondent days, he thought if they had difficulties understanding, as in  _ knowing _ him, what would be the chances that someone else ever would? And if not, what was the point?

Besides, Sephiroth had vowed to come back. He had, twice already. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t again. With that in mind, at least part of his life was an ongoing nightmare. One that he had to nourish; to be prepared. If he wouldn’t, who would? Who in their right mind would bring someone else into all of that?

So, all in all, what kind of life had he been granted, if he couldn’t even afford to look back at it? Thick tears painlessly rolled across his cheeks. They were alright. He rarely cried these days, the argument with Zack a thankful exception. The ocean of sorrow he harboured inside was too abysmal to be lessened by a few tears making it to the surface and escaping. It was entirely nonconsequential.

He wished he could talk to his friends about this. He had. He’d tried many times, but they couldn’t understand. They were all aware of that, most of the time. As far as Zack was concerned, he’d managed the only thing Zack had ever truly wanted: he’d become a true 'hero’.

And Tifa, she made the mistake of forgetting that they hadn’t come from the same background. Where Tifa had come from a well-off family and grown up in the centre of attention, he had been poor and shunned. Wherever she’d gone, people were ready to wait at her hand and foot, even if she didn’t need it. She didn’t need to ask for it to happen. She just had that kind of energy, pulling people to her and keeping them together. Yet another thing he didn't have. 

Then there was the fact that he’d been involved with Sephiroth long before their journey together had even begun. That road he’d traveled with Sephiroth had been a devastating one, and one he’d done alone.

“What am I gonna do, Aeris?” he sighed softly and pressed a finger between his eyebrows where tension had built. It was something he imagined Aeris doing. He could  _ almost _ feel her there with him.

It was too indecent to say out loud, but sometimes he thought Aeris had picked the longer straw. She didn’t have to live the mess that came after her passing. 

He remembered how it had been surprisingly easy to keep walking towards the northern crater to face Sephiroth. He’d never been afraid of death. That had never worried him. Perhaps he should have worried more about life after ‘victory’. How to go on living without a goal. No particular purpose and not many choices going forward. Just a lot of waiting for life to reach its natural conclusion.

The chord progressions of the choir turned slow and comforting again, and he melted into the pew, imagining lending a little time from his final rest. For a little while, it was so peaceful to pretend he never had to get up again. To have his friends say goodbye to him with bittersweet smiles, and just  _ let him go _ . 

If only there could be a way for him to find rest and for them to go on with their lives unfazed. That would have been the best. Or at least that he could fast-forward until he was done. Fruitless wishful thinking.

Soft voices brushed against him, bringing his thoughts back to Sephiroth. He wished he could ask why it hadn’t been enough, what they had. Why hadn’t it been worth fighting for? He was sure they could have made it just fine together out in the world. They could have taken down Shinra if that was what Sephiroth had wanted. He was certain they could have, even now. Why hadn’t they tried that instead of everything that happened? Why?

He put his hand where he could still feel Masamune pierce him, if he called on the memory. Was it wrong to miss the person who’d hurt him most? It wasn’t as if he missed being hurt. He missed what they  _ could have _ had. The man before the madness. Even though he knew Sephiroth must have already been far along when they first met, if he made an effort to think about it rationally.

Sometimes he wondered if he would have been better off not getting his memories back. Every chance the Goddess had to spare him, she seemed to turn down. No, he was no fan of gods at all. How utterly ridiculous of him to end up in a church on a day like this.

Just then, he could feel his phone buzzing. Good thing that he’d turned off the sound. He fished it out of his pocket, unsurprised to find Zack's name on the display. It wasn’t a good time for a chat, so he cancelled the call and texted something to that effect.

_ Okey dokey Spike. See you tomorrow? _ came the reply.

_ Sure _ .

Tomorrow was another day. With a little bit of luck, he’d wake up ready to chop his future into bite-sized portions again.

“Give me some luck, Aeris,” he whispered and watched his words form into puffs of steam as they left him.

He made himself sit up, feeling rare stiffness in his muscles from the cold. He watched the choir again. The outfits weren’t so bad. They looked primeval to him now, matching the music they were singing. It seemed to contain something eternal, something that had come before him, and would remain after his mess of a life. It was a soothing thought. He wouldn’t mind being forgotten. Actually, he’d prefer it to be remembered as a hero he himself couldn’t recognise.

A part of him wanted to stay and thank the choir. Tell them that Aeris was sure to appreciate it. That he appreciated it, even if they sang for empty pews. He realised that it meant something to  _ him _ . Another part of him decided  _ absolutely not _ .

He waited until the ethereal voices resolved to something so gentle it almost startled him. Perhaps that is what gave him the strength to stand up and walk out into the crisp night air.

He would go home, draw a bath, and enjoy the extraordinary sensation of getting warmed up. He would go to sleep without setting his alarm clock, and he would get up to go on with his life. He would see Zack and curl up on Tifa’s sofa with a sheepish excuse for leaving on New Year’s Eve. If he asked for it, he’d be allowed to sit between them. He would be fine.

The walk home was long. The skies had turned crystal clear, and below them, the ground sparkled with frost crunching with his every step. The voices of the choir followed him longer than he expected. They seemed to wrap around his feet like trailing, luminescent strands of gold. It almost felt like they, or at least someone, was walking him home.

Just in case it was her, he started catching Aeris up on what the last year had been like, and what he hoped from the coming one. He wasn’t sure what had done it, but that night he slept like the dead. With minimal reluctance, he woke up the next morning to the land of the living. All in all, it hadn't been a terrible way to finish the year off. And seeing his two best friends certainly wasn't the worst way to start the next one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was never meant to be a multi-chapter, but now this sad Cloud lives in my head. What am I supposed to do? I gotta let him out now that I created the poor sod. Ah, but I love him just the same. <3
> 
> Hope your New Year's Eve was better than Cloud's, and if it wasn't, that you feel less lonely in case it was utter garbage. Here's to it NOT being 2020 any more! YAY!

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to be able to write fantastical smut or horrible social realism.
> 
> If by any chance you liked it I'd make me very happy. If it gave you thoughts, I'd be interested to hear them usual.


End file.
